


Deadlier Than They Look

by Jedi Buttercup (jedibuttercup)



Series: Voices Like Thunder [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comic), Falling Skies
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Post Season 1, Post Season 8, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/pseuds/Jedi%20Buttercup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy picked one of the new bullets up and closed her eyes, letting a slight smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she felt it <i>singing</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadlier Than They Look

The first set of new bullets was surprisingly not all that much to look at. The Scythe had been a unique weapon, all dramatic curves and points, deadlier than any other edged weapon Buffy had ever wielded; but the ammo Andrew had asked Pope to make from its salvaged blade just looked... ordinary.

The _feel_ of them, though. Buffy picked one up and closed her eyes, letting a slight smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she felt it _singing_. Not as much as the Scythe itself had when she'd held it, just a whiff of hungry enchantment, but definitely enough to pierce the tough skin of a Skitter. She closed her fingers around it, then sighed and opened her eyes again, nodding at Pope.

"These will definitely come in handy," she said.

He cracked a grin at her, practically preening at her remark. "Thought so. Don't know what that metal is, but I test fired a round; they penetrate all out of proportion to their size. Mags're there, if you want to load 'em up yourself; there won't be many, though, so you'll want to save 'em and alternate with mech-piercers during the actual assault."

"Good to know," Kennedy nodded, taking the bullet from Buffy's hand and studying it with a thoughtful frown. "It sucks that there's no way to make more of them, and we can't exactly get them back – but every little edge will help. We can't afford not to use them."

Technically, they couldn't afford not to use their full team, either, but Buffy and Kennedy had agreed that if the mission failed, they wanted at least the youngest three Slayers to still have a chance at some kind of life. Zahra and Stasia were both college-aged, but the others were still young enough to tempt the Skitters for harnessing. If worst came to worst, they'd agreed to go into hiding with the kids of the Second Mass; better to split their group than risk the Skitters finding out exactly what gave Buffy's girls their fearsome edge. Fortunately, they'd started to make connections among the miltia kids already, especially Danielle, who was just a little bit older than the middle Mason kid, Ben.

Pope called the three Mason sons the princes of the resistance, and he wasn't far wrong. For all he didn't seem to give a damn about anyone other than himself, Buffy had already noticed he was more honest than just about anyone else there. Kind of like the Big Bad version of Spike that way, and just as gleeful about killing anything nonhuman. The Mason kids didn't appreciate that about him as much as she did, though, so she didn't see much of them while she was helping with the ammunition. She just watched them at a distance, noting how the attention of the rest of the camp strayed constantly in their direction, and added mental notations to her dossiers of the Second Mass as they went.

One of the things she'd noticed was that while the civilians seemed to respect Hal and dote on Matt, they seemed alternately afraid of and worried for Ben. Buffy had heard three separate rumors before her first day in the camp was over about the length of time he'd been harnessed and how much the Skitters had done to him. She'd tasted copper in her dreams that night, thinking about Mellie and hearing Danielle's quiet sobs in the next tent. The second day, though, the youngest Slayer had marched right up to Ben and challenged him to some kind of complicated field game. He'd laughed as they collapsed to the grass afterward, a half-hysterical sound caught between relief and tears; she guessed he probably hadn't been able to play full-strength with anyone since he and Rick had been brought back changed.

Good for him. And good for Danielle. At that age, they were probably still capable of healing from their traumas. It would be up to the rest of the camp to give them that chance.

Not that Buffy was ready to throw in the towel just yet. The Second Massachusets might have had some good fighters, but they'd never seen a Slayer go to war.

By the end of the sixth day after Tom Mason's capture, each of Buffy's chosen team had as much ammo ready as they could easily carry, a couple of clips' worth of specials and the rest all shiny-tipped mech metal. Weaver watched them gear up, then gave them a cautious nod.

"I still think it's suicide to go in so soon, with just the four of you," he said, "Are you sure you want to do this? And that you don't want to take the car all the way?"

"No," Buffy shook her head. "As soon as they notice it, they'll shift forces into position. From what you've told me about your attack, and what happened to the other regiments, I think they put a couple of their own satellites in orbit. They might not be watching _us_ all the time, but they definitely have eyes on their own bases, and I wouldn't be surprised if they're watching approach routes right now in case you try something else."

"So you're just going to run all through Boston?" Weaver frowned at them. "I know you ladies are fast, but if you're going to have a chance at all, you can't afford to attack already exhausted."

"Don't worry about us," Kennedy assured him. "Worry about yourselves – you might want to have everything packed up again and that radio cranked just in case something goes wrong. If worst comes to worst, we'll cause as much damage as we can before we go down, but we can't guarantee they won't track us back here."

"I'll talk to Uncle Scott," Dr. Glass said, approaching them with a small zippered bag in hand. "Here. It isn't exactly a full first aid kit, but there are some things in there you might need if – well, you might need." She swallowed visibly, her expression a mask of worry.

"Thank you," Buffy said, carefully taking it from her. "I hope we don't, but there's no such thing as being too prepared."

The doctor nodded. "And – I just wanted to say, thank you. For volunteering to do this. If I thought I could do any good–"

"You are doing good," Weaver interrupted gruffly, shooting her a sidewise look. "Right here. Which is where Tom would want you to stay."

Dr. Glass didn't disagree, but she looked deeply unhappy.

Buffy smelled romance brewing, and wondered, not for the first time, if Tom Mason would live up to everything she'd heard about him already. He seemed to have inspired a lot of respect among the militia for a history professor who hadn't earned his degrees via the GI Bill, and Dr. Glass practically had her heart in her eyes despite the brief length of time she'd known him.

He sounded like a Giles, actually.

Buffy swallowed back painful memory and shouldered her bag. All the more reason for them to rescue him. She didn't want anyone else to have to lose theirs, too.

They'd all lost more than enough already.

\---


End file.
